Lilacs for London

Chapter One

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Well this is it, this is the end. A fair warning, I am not going to be telling you about the bullshit reasons why I am dead. Take it as more or less of a warning so that you don't end up like me becoming a victim to someone I wasn't, letting the world tell me who I was before I could show them what I was capable of. Sitting on the hood of my car I watch the sun return to the horizon. The smell of lilacs tickled my nose but I enjoyed the feeling, at least I could feel that. Whenever I try thinking of the days we would spend here I also feel things... I would think of the days when I wasn't dead and could actually touch her, and hold her. But now, I'm stuck here waiting, waiting until she comes too. The only thing I have left of her are the memories, and the hope, that false hope that she will soon be with me. Thinking of the moments we shared makes me feel even more dead inside. A fair warning, this is not a love story.

I guess I should start from the beginning, I grew up in a small, little hick town named pleasant valley- but if you ask me it was far from pleasant. I lived in a shit-hole with two assholes who absolutely hated each other whom I referred to as my mom and dad. My dad was never home because of his job, so mom always had "adult sleepovers" with men she met at a bar, or even the grocery store. I, of course, always had to keep my mouth shut. I always pitied my mother, she was lonely and dependent, your average drunk to most people. The irony was that she barely ever consumed alcohol, like ever. She just wasn't happy with her life, which was probably why I was brought up with so many problems. I was under a lot of stress as a child if you couldn't tell already, and this caused me to become a very stressful person (which isn't a very good quality to have in general). I remember one day, when I was 17, my dad came home and found my mother with someone else. I swear, I thought someone was going to get murdered in the living room. Things were smashing, voices screaming, eyes crying. But I was okay, I sat in my room scribbling away in my sketch book. I drew a sparrow this time. I didn't have any color pencils at the time so I sticked to the plain grey, black and white color scheme. My index finger was a dark grey because of the fact that I had been shading so much. I remembered how realistic it looked. My bed was right next to a window so I had the perfect lighting to see what I was doing. I had been working all day on this drawing and I was beginning to get back aches.

"Thomas you're killing him!" I hear my mother scream from the living room.

Shit! Darting out of my room I grab my brown leather jacket and car keys.

"Mom, dad I'm using the car..." I say half way out the door.

Running to the car I struggle to open the door, the car was a piece of shit, but hey, it was a car. Putting the keys into the ignition I thought of all of the kids at school who made fun of my for driving a rusted 1991 Honda Civic, but who was I to give a shit. The car was the least of my worries. I pull out of the driveway and head out into the open road. Although it may not have seen like it, I knew exactly where I was going. When I was a kid, and I had some friends, we would all bike to this one spot in the middle of no where that looked like something you'd see in a movie or something. It was literally, a field of wild lilacs with one huge tree in the center that we would spend all day climbing on. But I quickly grew out of that playful shit and became bitter and jaded, causing my friends not to like me anymore, which I was totally fine with. I didn't need other people, I thought, all I needed was myself. Well, I'm telling you now that that is not how life works. I soon realized that after I met her.

After parking the car in a nearby ditch, I walk up to the tree to see a figure sitting where I sit by the tree. The closer I got, the sooner I realized that it was a girl. She was tall and slender, her long, light brown hair covered her face. She was reading.